Brighton half

Yesterday my training plan took a more social turn, as I ran the planned half marathon with around 10,000 others. Thankfully I didn't need to talk to all of them!

Oddly, despite living in the city for 13 years, and this being my fourth time running a half marathon, this was the first time I'd run the one in Brighton. My first half, in 2017, was in Worthing, purely because a friend had suggested I do it and I couldn't think of a reason not to. 2018 and 2019 were focusing on marathon attempts of various degrees of success, and 2020 was hastily moved to Eastbourne after the Worthing one was called off due to a storm. The late notice of that postponement meant that Brighton was fully booked, so further along the coast I went. 2021 didn't have many races for some reason, and 2022 saw me finally cashing in the literal rain check at Worthing. 

The marathon training plan I've been using called for a half marathon on the 26th of February, the same date as Brighton's half was on, so it made sense to go to the one I could catch a bus to. I'd rested and stretched, and stretched and rested, and was 98% confident that my body could hold up. 

The day was intended as a trial run for the full marathon five weeks hence, and started well with a bus trip into town. I'd packed everything I needed for during the run (drinks, gels, protein bar) and after (deodorant, change of clothes, phone charger, more deodorant) in a handy cool bag and lumbered Dana with it, who dragged herself out early on a Sunday morning on support duties despite being unwell. I ran through the spots with her for where I could see her, and get a supply drop, and posed for photos by the pier before we parted. 

James, look at the birds!

I waded through the crowds and found my starting pen. My estimated time of 2 hours to 2 hours 15 was inaccurate - I intended to run at race pace for the full marathon, 7:07 per km, which would see a finish of around 2 hours 30. I tucked myself away near the back of the pen, getting warm in the sun that had broken through the clouds. I mulled over whether sunglasses would have been better, but decided against it - I would only have a short time running east with the sun in my eyes, as the final return to the finish line would be around midday and the sun would be higher (if it reappeared). I overheard other runners discussing their targets, and chuckled to myself. I wasn't running for a particular time - in fact, I emphatically didn't want a new personal best, as this would involve running a full minute and a half faster than my intended pace per km. Instead my goals were trying to stick to race pace, not injuring myself further and hatching as many eggs as I could in Pokemon Go!

The race started and we shuffled forward the 450m to the timing mats at the start line. I played a familiar psych-up tune, focusing on the run ahead. I ambled round the front of the aquarium and up the only real incline of the run - or so I thought. I knew Dana would be on the inside just past the bus stop so positioned myself to pose for photos. 

I look happier than the two chaps flanking me.

The route along Marine Parade is one I'd done regularly on my Sunday runs, but usually a) on the pavement and b) running west, so this was a pleasant change. I was a bit miffed to not hear my name called out - I'd had it emblazoned on my chest for a reason (attention), was it all for nothing? The crowd thinned out and I switched to a podcast episode for the out and back to Roedean. Round by the cafe, and to distract myself from the smell of bacon sandwiches I checked my pace to find that I was running at 1:50 minutes per kilometre! If I kept this pace up I'd obliterate the half marathon world record by around 15 minutes! This was obviously a GPS glitch and I paid it avid attention for the next few minutes until it settled down to something more sensible, glad that I wouldn't need to replace my watch. 

I scoffed my first energy gel on the slope down to the first water station, finding a bin to dispose of my litter and using the supplied water to cool myself down. I'd got enough drinks with me to stay hydrated, so the water was just about reducing my body temperature. I chuntered along back towards town, being passed by people running their own race, keeping an eye out for Dana and thanking the volunteers who had given up their morning to enable the race to go ahead. By scanning the crowd and making eye-contact with more people I got more cheers and shout-outs from the watching public, so that's clearly where I was going wrong during the first few km when I was largely ignored. Down the initial incline and I spotted Dana, so posed again. 

I never outgrow my MySpace camwhore phase

The route swung away from the seafront and up through Brighton, along a route I'll take in the full marathon. My pace wasn't too taxing so I had a nice time taking in the architectural delights. I passed a runner from a local running club called The Eagles - even though, on this long run, I was taking it easy. I amused myself thinking of more Eagles song titles I could cram into this report, which you'll be pleased to know I managed to forget. One of these nights I'll remember them. Back down towards the sea and I had my second energy gel, diverting from the course across a cycle lane to a nearby bin, much to the amusement of a nearby runner who thought I'd just given up and dashed off to the pub! Passing the Pavilion I hit the halfway mark, and got a surge of speed. Whether that was from the gel kicking in, or Carly Rae Jepsen's Run Away With Me playing on my headphones, I'll let you decide. I was going at a comfortable enough pace to sing along, regardless! 

An iconic sight, with the Pavilion as my backdrop

I saw Dana for the last time, and swapped out my empty water bottle for a cool, full one, then headed into Hove. This was a fairly straight run along the seafront, familiar territory, and I kept an eye out for friends I thought might be cheering. I motored along the Kingsway, enjoying a steady pace, smiling and waving, and almost soaking the poor woman behind me at the water station. We passed the King Alfred Leisure Centre and I was on familiar turf, the route of my regular flat 10k to the power station (albeit we'd be turning by the Lagoon instead). The last time I ran this route my Achilles protested - but that was after 3km, and by now I'd racked up five times that distance. 

Coping better with the distance than others

Around this time I felt a familiar wobble. A bit of a dizzy spell, but no matter, I was prepared for this. I slowed down on the approach to the Lagoon and scarfed down a protein bar. A few spectators mistook this as me struggling and shouted out cheers of encouragement - to which I rebutted that I was fine, just having my tea break! Not thirty seconds after I picked up my pace again I heard my name being called out with far more enthusiasm, and spotted Adam and Simone from my parkrun cheering me on. This helped spur me on, and I turned back towards the finish line, 5k away. 

Five kilometres. It's a parkrun, it's nothing. It's a fifth of my run the week before, I'd already covered three times that. I eventually got my head to think of the remaining distance as that, a much more digestible term than running from Portslade, across most of Hove and Brighton to the Volk's railway. I took my final energy gel, a more water based one which immediately coated both hands in stickiness the instant I opened it, and soldiered on. The beachfront promenade between the Lagoon and the leisure centre is quite narrow so I don't usually run along it, so had no real concept of how well I was doing. It opened out on familiar terrain and I picked up, aided by the sight of two colleagues who had given up their Sunday to come out and cheer for me. 

The final water station, and I stopped to wash my hands and soak my head. Three kilometres to go, and barring a brief top up of my bottle from a water fountain I've used many times before, it was all go from here. There wouldn't be any more wasted time, I'd take it to the limit. I didn't realise at the time, but I was in a much better mental state than those around me. 

I swear I've not been photoshopped into this picture.

The course swung back from the prom to the Kingsway by the Angel Of Peace statue, giving me a fresh view on things, as I normally run alongside the beach from there. The crowds thickened and I sauntered towards the finish line, responding to supportive comments in kind. My watch bleeped 20km done as I passed the cinema and I let Dana know that I was around five minutes away. I fought the urge to speed up for a sprint finish - I didn't know how much I had left in the tank and didn't want to blow up too early. We passed the pier and I was dismayed to see the finish line wasn't as close as I remembered - still 500m away. Passing several runners being attended to by medical personnel, I saw a line opening up ahead of me and positioned myself to practice my planned finish line pose for the full marathon.

Five seconds before finishing

I crossed the timing mats again, leaping up and punching the air in delight. "This will make a cracking photo" I thought, as the MC gave me a shout-out for my spectacular finish. 

There was a man running a minute or so ahead with me carrying a 25kg fridge on his back. Fair play to him for doing it, and breaking a world record in the process, but his finish drew a lot of attention, and the crowd around him meant that my finish line photo wasn't quite as cool as I would have liked. 

About to lay the smack down on this volunteer

I found Dana, then decided to stop clogging up the finish chute. We sat on the beach and I used the ice packs which had been cooling my drinks to ice my Achilles as recommended. (I'm not gonna lie, I'm pretty chuffed with the dual purpose to these.) Were it not for that I felt fine, well enough to find food, but I figured the person with a degree in Sports Science knows more than someone who eschewed exercise for the first thirty years of his life, so I sat and chilled. After rehydrating, and posing for more photos, we went off in search of food, walking without issue. 

A proud finisher

A proud finisher, six years previously. 

Compare and contrast.

After a few days rest, the training plan resumes at the weekend with the longest run in the schedule - 32k/20 miles, and I'm gonna throw in some hills too!